Behind The Boys In Blue
by Have-A-Go-Hero
Summary: Life as a Tracy could never not be chaotic, regardless of how much you try and hope. No matter how close you are to someone, all it takes is a little nudge to see whats behind them.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the Thunderbirds, despite how much I'd like to. Enjoy!**

4th April 2039

Time stood still as those piercing icy blue eyes stared back at him, leaving him wondering what that little mind of his was thinking. His untamed dirty blonde curls bounced with breeze, as unruly as his first cries where- wild, panicking, _strong_. And in that moment, seeing the love in his wife's tears, the life of his son through the wail of his breath, Jefferson Tracy was a proud man, _no,_ he was a proud father.

28th October 2040

He'd wonder in the future if the reason for his second son's fascination with the stars was due to his brief posting on Mars during Lucille's pregnancy- the nights of standing in front of a telescope with Scott and bump number two must have made an impact he thought. It didn't matter though as he gazed into the galaxies his son had for eyes, those cerulean orbs where magical, certainly something he'd never forget. He chuckled softly as the platinum head was placed into his brother's waiting, and perhaps a little too eager, arms, Scott's giggles and greetings to his baby brother was a memory he'd cherish forever.

15th August 2041

He could remember the colour of the sky when Virgil was born- the sun was setting as myriad of golds, oranges and purples fought their way to the eyes of those who looked, the artists in everyone. The dark auburn hair of his third son seemed to be homage to the night he was born, surrounded by the warmth of family and love. The soft smiles of his eldest when they saw their little brother and Virgil's curious gaze back was a sight to behold; it was made picturesque when his beloved wife laughed along with her children.

14th February 2043

He'd always said his children's most mystical feature was their eyes- his precious youngest was no different. His vivid green eyes thrived with life when by all accounts, they shouldn't have- making them more magical than he could even begin to imagine. The soft rise and fall of his little chest was all he could watch as his other sons met their brother, the questions of 'why's' and 'what's' falling upon deaf ears as his heart beat just as strongly as those who came before him. His baby was a fighter and that made this moment more magical than anything.

12th March 2047

At only a few hours old, the baby in front of him was already the image of his beautiful mother, with his starry bright blue eyes and golden hair, he looked at the world around him in complete wonder. The soft rustle of the wind ruffled his baby son's hair, causing little laughs from his other boys, now 8, 7, 6 and 4 respectively. Surround by his family, now complete, Jeff smiled widely at his doting sons and stunning wife.


	2. Cold

Scott had had a normal life until he turned 13. Being the first child of five, he'd taken to the role of big brother like water to a sponge, offering help with diapers when they were younger and homework as they got older- well, most of it, he was asking John for help with math before John was asking him. They all had their ups and downs, from Virgil being more of a moody teenager than he was to one of Gordon's many pranks gone wrong. Even he himself was starting to become temperamental teen his parents where dreading, but all in all, life with five brothers, a relatively absent but absolutely adoring father and a mother who put everyone else first over herself, life was pretty good.

Until he was 13 that was.

The date of when his life changed would forever be ingrained in his mind- the 11th of January 2052- their mother's 40th birthday. Their father, now ex-astronaut but soon to be business billionaire, had decided to treat the family to a skiing trip in Austria as a birthday present to his wife.

The holiday had started out great, each of the boys got to ski- even little Allie who was struggling skis nearly his height. But the keys words are 'started out great' because, inevitably, the life the Tracy's could never not be chaotic.

If he was asked, Scott would surely say he remembered thinking he could fly and attempted a jump that was far too big for him, leading to him landed awkwardly on his arm which kept him in a cast for the next six weeks. His mother, being the kind woman she was, offered to take both Scott and Alan to the chalet they rented out as the rest of the boys and their father went up the mountain. Neither boys reacted pleasantly to that but their mother's word was final so both boys treaded up to the chalet as their mother wished the rest of their family good luck.

But none of them would have realised that with what was to come, it was the ones in the chalet that really needed the luck.

* * *

"Sweetheart, could you watch your brother whilst I get us drinks?"

"Sure Momma!" Chirped Scott who, up until an hour ago, was refusing to speak to his mother and brother. He still would have been if it wasn't for his youngest brother struggling with the Lego he had laid out in front of him; a simple "No Allie! That piece has to go _there_." had Scott absorbed in the plane Alan had tried making, leaving a smile on their mothers face as she secretly recorded them on the video recorder they had brought with them.

Giggling, Lucy made her way into the small kitchen, turning on the TV as she did so. Humming to herself, she made herself busy with pouring drinks for her two boys and grabbed a couple of snacks out of the cupboard before they, inevitably, started whining for food. _Boys will be boys_ , she thought with a smile. The smile faltered a little, however, when she noticed the juice in the glasses beginning to shake a little. With further inspection, she saw it wasn't just the liquid in the glasses that was moving.

Alarmed, the mother of five ran into the living area where two of her boys where currently playing, completely oblivious to what was going on around them.

"Scott. Alan. Get under the table now."

The soft tremble of her commanding voice had both boys up like a shot, even with Alan's confused pleas.

"Mommy why are we hiding?" The little boy had begun to cling to his brother when the shaking got worse, a terrified expression on his face.

"Just stay under the table baby, I'll tell you later." She tried to reassure him with a smile, only to realise that her 13 year old son had an idea of what could be going on.

"Mom? What is it? Is it an avalanche? Mom, you need to be under here too!"

And she was on her way there, honestly, if it wasn't for the tremendous shaking and furniture moving, she would have made it.

But she didn't.

With an alarming creak and crack, they looked up only to see a section of the chalet fall on top of them. Scott pulled his baby brother to him and held him tightly, trying to shield him from the debris and snow that suddenly came pouring in. He didn't know how long it had been before everything seemed to settle and his eyes opened, but if Scott could have chosen to keep his eyes shut, he would have.

The first thing he noticed was the cold. Unforgiving, icy and fearful. In front of him, where his mother should have been standing, was what looked like a construction site- beams and metal and snow and a hand that he knew belonged to his mother.

"Mom!" Quickly climbing and scurrying out of under the table, Scott pushed his little brother aside as he tried to get to his mother, clawing at the debris, trying to shift things that were too heavy for his lanky frame, trying to convince himself of what really was. Unable to help, he let out an anguished cry as he grabbed his mother's hand only to recoil back in horror.

Cold.

His mother's hand was _cold._

"No, no! Mom..." tears threatened to fall as he placed his hand over his mothers, desperately trying grab onto part of her that was _cold._

"'Cotty?" Alan's timid call pulled Scott back to the present and he slipped out of his mother's grip, going back over to his brother and pulling him into a tight hug. Knowing that it could happen again, Scott creeped back under the table, refusing to let go of his brother despite his cries and pleas. Shock taking over the boy, Scott began to absentmindedly rock with his baby brother as the _cold_ began to seep in.

He didn't know how much time had passed before anything happened. All he knew was that the tears that were falling where cold, as cold as he was currently feeling, as _cold_ as his mother's hand.

Scott never liked the cold. Cold reminded him of all the bad things that happen. Cold reminded him of the fear he felt when he first opened his eyes. Cold reminded him of the dead he would never see again. Cold reminded him of the fear he couldn't take away from his brother's eyes.

* * *

It was cold at her funeral, all of the boys remembered that. The weather was as unforgivable as the deed that took her away from them; it acted as if it were angry that the woman who offered so much sunshine was taken in such a manner. The cold was the wind, piercing through their coats, wiping the tears off their faces when really, it should have been their mother doing that for them. Their cold tears were meant to have been stopped by her adoring smiling face and that cheerful laugh she had only for them.

She was theirs.

She was taken.

Scott, like his father, never cried though. His stoic appearance was there to help his brothers. They couldn't be the strong one, so he had to be. Regardless of how cold he was feeling inside, how hollow, he couldn't bring himself to shed the tears that were consuming him.

And he wouldn't.

Not even as they all grew up without their beloved mother and her beloved smile.

Not even as he held a sobbing John on the roof one night whilst watching the stars, it should have been her sitting here with him, _not me._

Not even as Virgil swore to never sing against because he'd forget her voice, it should have been her holding him, _not me._

Not even as Gordon threatened to run away because both Jeff and Scott didn't have the time to go to his swim meets, it should have been her watching her son with pride, _not me._

Especially not when Alan came into his room one night, sobbing that he couldn't remember their mother's face. Not even with that heart-breaking admission could Scott bring himself to cry. It should have been her waking him each morning with a smile, _not me._

Despite the heart-break, the fear and the _cold_ , Scott couldn't bring himself to cry because there was no one there to pick him up; there was no one to help him breathe, to smile, to laugh because _it should have been him under that roof, not her_.

It should never have been her.


End file.
